What I write
might not be right
but I'll not be stopped:
free expression is my right

when such freedom
is stifled or suffocated
democracy will witness
an instant moral death

Free lunch?
Of course
I'll go to my kitchen
nothing will it cost

Free lunch, you asked
is there such a thing?
silly question!--to the home-kitchen
I walk-- it costs me nothing!

Oh yes
free to write
but not necessarily
good verse--
given away free?
oh no--if it's bad poetry
choose what you may
100 or 2 lines
that never mind
just make the poem shine

free time I have
plenty in truth
retired am I
flirting with themes
and words--my likes
and dislikes
poetry is freedom absolute
( I always try
not to be insensitive or rude
and my language
should by good rules abide
I can't afford to be frivolous or crude)

readers I welcome
I charge no fee
glad am I, truly
you are passinoately
into the world of poetry
but,  sincerely
do promise me
be critical and harsh readily-
you can also bite--without mercy
I forbid praise or flattery
I seek no acclaim or popularity

poetry
like life
is a total democracy
write-
free
your verse
in Hello Poetry!

Lips to lips
next skin to skin
*** is notoriously funny
it's all in and out, out and in!

Intimacy
is a matter
of degree:
it's not exclusively
sexuality

Don't count me a friend
unless you are willing
to walk with me to the very end

Move away from sadness
replied the faraway friend
there will always be seasons of gladness
nothing to fear or make amend-

life is made for blessedness
true affection will never bend
faith knows no forgetfulness
until time's very end

It's sad but so true
most friendship is but a convenience
a coat-hanger somewhere in time
no wonder then its nature is one of transience.

My so-called
    best friend
    how I wish
   to have a boat
   to ship him
   to earth's furthest end!

Even your best friend
would someday, somehow offend

Friends could be more dreadful than enemies  
you know the latter better than the former
so many do cloud your life and give no peace
the mind of the latter you don't need to decipher.

I am an unknown writer
  not agonised if plagiarised
  instead would be taken to delight
  with a great element of surprise

for my limits I know so well
thousands of writers out there
have so many great things to tell
these folks would detect  at once I'm only hot-air!

Words should be courted
not manipulated

Write not to coax, persuade or preach
  no reader would you ever enrich

A poem
is a painting
in words
with the best colouring

Invincible I become
when words and I are one

A poem
should struggle never
it should come naturally
like the  gentle unfolding of a flower

A poem
has lovely eyes
they begin to squint
when you agonise.

A poem should be
an honest reflection
of my heart and soul
without affectation

The poet
should subservient be
to the poem
that's the nature of poetry.

The cool breath of writing
that gives the writer meaning

Poetry is not rhetoric
   it needs to shout never
   its duty is beautifully done
   even in its softest whisper

How often does
the poem weep
for the writer
whose promises he doesn't keep

The biggest thesaurus
or the grandest dictionary
a worthy poem
neither does guarantee

A poem is a journey
that leads to a new territory

To write is not just to self-discover
  but to impart a universal truth to the reader

A poem and the poet invariably they part
when the latter has lost his spirit and heart

Poetry
is close
to religion
deepest mysteries it does pose.

Don't be ornate
     and don't exaggerate
     complexity doesn't sell
     in simple clarity let your story tell.

Nothing is ever new
but the writer sets it
in different hue

A poem
is never an ornament
nor
a cheap sentiment

A poem
is a life of its own
if worthy
its fertile seed is sown

Words in incubation
held today in silent abeyance
move in the future into rightful action
in the profoundest sentence

If a word
is not right
a poem
should not be in sight

The poet's nightmare
when words revolt
and the entire poem
it starts to tear

I don't need a bachelor or master's degree
mastering myself will give me success-entry

From Chopin's diary, through my eyes

So calm, gentle and tender is the night
though there's no moon, stars or  the faintest light
my heart wells never as before in such longing and sorrow
let my music tell my heartbreak-story though I know

love , the love of my life, will not once gain return
while my feelings within me so grievously burn
at this hour so bereft and solemn as I write my Nocturne
if I've died a thousand times,  for this love I'll still tearfully yearn

From far away
amidst the mist of time
you look more beautiful
and enchanting.  Sublime

is a word that begs in inadequacy
but no poet am I---this poem's frail outcome
would only mar the eternal wonder
that's you, you alone--- I wait but know you won't come.

It's infinitely better not to acquire than to later discard things which at first sight, seemed irresistible, but subsequently found to be blase.

  Materialism has taken away our love and appreciation of the beautiful and authentic that's found in all great works of art and all forms of rich human creativity.



Because we are spiritually blind, we find little joy in living---we drift along, often aimlessly, listlessly, wearily; we complain and whinge; we blame others or circumstances for our unhappiness, discontent, restlessness and angst, but never ourselves.  



Habits and attitudes perpetuate and we sink deeper in the inane quagmire of our own doing.  We become morally bankrupt.



Finding meaning is a matter of choice--

it's never too late





(from my 2019 diary)

People are not exceptional
but,  in truth, artificial.

This chest contains only one percent of sting
  of course you all know about the real human being!

I'm not even a single motion
how could I think of evolution or revolution?

In compromise
there's some moral demise

It's not that people are not good
but rather that most are selfish and rude

Myself I can't measure
   I've nothing that's ever close to treasure

It's not out of love that people travel
but rather due to boredom--minus the marvel.

It's your day, so is mine
     let's our distance keep--that would be fine

We've not met for 50 years
  too much we've both changed--no tears!

Don't say to me 'indeed'
   prove to me by your deed